Harry Potter and The Curse of Bad Faith
by Scarlett Foxie
Summary: Once upon a time, a long time ago, in a little magic kingdom far, far away there lived a very wicked man... Our story, like all good fairytales, begins thus. (Eventual Het and Slash with HD pairing)
1. The Curse

A/N: Hello and welcome to my first attempt at a HP Fan Fic. I do hope that you like it. Please leave a review so I'll know someone is actually reading this. Of course, flames would let me know that too, but I'd prefer constructive criticism. Please note that in my little tale most witches and wizards are bisexual, as power is attracted to power, and gender is a pesky little second consideration. With that in mind, there WILL be same sex couples as well as opposite sex couples. If you have read this far, then you have been warned and will look really silly if you flame later about gay sex.

This story is SUPPOSED to eventually be a Harry/Draco pairing. I'm hoping that I don't lose control and have some other char run crazy and take over. Have faith and keep reading.

Of course we have the obligatory **DISCLAIMER**: Anything you recognize from reading JK Rowling's wonderful stories is hers (and also property of all the other corporations that own a chunk of the Harry Potter money making machine). I'm just borrowing it to terrorize Draco and Harry, because I really do enjoy doing that. I am making no money from this. All other stuff you see that isn't HP cannon is from my own twisted little mind that has been fillied with thousands of other HP fan fics that inspired me! Thanks you lot!

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Our story starts like all good fairytales with a generous helping of romance, more than a dash of magic, a prince who is most charming, and a terrible curse given out as a harsh lesson. And so our tale begins in the traditional way. Once upon a time, a long time ago, in a little magic kingdom far far away there lived a very wicked man…

_Approximately 850 A. D._

Sir Rowland of Tanis sneered in acknowledgement of his guards as they shoved him to his knees in front of the king, and the king gave a tired sigh as he fiddled with his wand.

"Sir Rowland, you are the sneakiest, most clever, politically aware person I have ever met in all of my days. You would sell your own mother if you thought it would bring you an advantage. You have strove for years to gain power. You have conspired to overthrow this kingdom, and this time you almost did it. You have brought our beloved Kowpens to its knees, and the blood on your hands is near incalculable. There is not a witch or wizard of our fair land who has not been touched by your atrocities. For this you will be punished. The penalty for crimes such as yours is death, and your compatriots have already been judged and are moldering in their graves, but…" Here the monarch paused as if pondering. "I am loathed to give up such a resource as you. It occurs to me that if you were working for this kingdom, instead of against it, we would be strong and stable, and my people could be content."

At this, Rowland Tanis looked up at the king in surprise, and then dread at what the king was implying. 'Surely,' he thought, 'the king is going to do the practical thing and do away with me.'

The monarch continued with his judgment. "Sir Rowland, I will give you a choice, a terrible choice. This day, this hour, either you and all that bear your family name or blood will be geias bound to me, my family, and the throne of Kowpens from now until the last descendant of your line dies, or you will die and end your family line now. Chose, Rowland. Chose now."

Rowland's mind raced. Death or enslavement for not only him, but his descendants for as long as his family existed. And the spell would most likely make him feel obligated to have children to continue his line. After all, if one Malfoy would be good for the country, then several of them would be better. Also, to have children would provide servants for the next generation to the crown, he acknowledged with cynical thought. Still, if he chose death then that would end everything right now, and as long as a Tanis was alive there was hope of escape.

"Death or being bound magically to your service?" Rowland drawled. Even filthy, on his knees, and about to be put to death his arrogance was apparent. "I chose live, no matter how fettered."

With a satisfied look, the king nodded, "Very well." Then gestured to his counselors, and they stepped forward and consulted in hushed voices with each other as they and the king to come up with the proper spell to use on the condemned. After some debate, they started making preparations for the spell to be cast on the traitor.

"Sir Rowland of Tanis," the king proclaimed and the scribes' magic quills wrote frantically to take it all down, "From this day forward you and all of your descendants shall bear a new name. A name that will remind them of your faithlessness, and why they are bound as they are. I and mine for will hold your family's ambition and ruthlessness in check as long as our two families exist. You and your family shall put my and my family's interests above your own. You shall guard, plot, plan, advise, defend, and kill if needed to serve us, and thus serve the crown. From this day forward you will be my most faithful of servants."

A look of absolute horror crossed over Sir Rowland's face as it dawned on him the true consequences of how complete and ruthless this binding was going to be, how changed his life would be, and he pulled at his chains in a futile attempt to escape his fate as the king and his council drew their wands and encircled him. Softly they began to chant and move their wands in mysterious patterns. Blood was shed by the doomed man as well as the king, and Rowland felt the magic take hold of him. He screamed in pain as it tore him apart and made him anew. The curse, for surely something so painful was a curse, bit into what made Rowland… well Rowland and altered him just enough to be what his new master wanted. As suddenly as it began it was over, and the former traitor lay in pain on the cold stone floor, trying desperately for his pride's sake, to not show how he hurt.

The king allowed him to gather himself then bade him to rise. "Arise, my most faithful of servants. From this day on you shall be known as Sir Rowland Malfoy."

_Approximately 1195 A.D._

Young Alexander Malfoy stood by his prince's bed, and watched as his dark haired prince drew another painful breath. It was apparent that his master would very soon leave this world.

They were both far from home, as his master was impulsive and jumped headlong into whatever adventure came his way. The current king of Kowpens, and father of Alexander's prince, had long despaired of his wayward youngest and had bid Alexander to do his best to watch over the prince. Alexander Malfoy, the many great grandson of the infamous Sir Rowland Malfoy, had indeed done his best, but his master had firmly been of the mind to join Richard the Lionheart in his crusades. Which had led them to the far reaches of the known world. Unfortunately, the youngest prince of Kowpens would never return home.

It was a shame that no one had yet discovered a way for wizards to travel great distances by magic. For then Alexander would have whisked his master home to be healed or die among his family, if nothing could be done. As things stood, though, all the young wizard could do was feed his master the pain reducing and healing potions he had brewed, and hope for the best.

Faithfully, the young Malfoy took care of his prince until he expired, and with true sorrow Alexander cast _incindo_ over his prince's body. Then he gathered the ashes into an urn with a wave of his wand.

Alexander was a true Malfoy, taking after his great-grandfather not only in the pale Malfoy looks and silver eyes, but also in cunning and ambition. Alexander realized that he currently had no standing orders from his master.

The king had bid him to take care of his master, the young prince. While he should take the ashes of his master back to Kowpens to have them scattered in the royal mourning rose garden with the prince's ancestors, there was no reason why he had to go immediately. Surely, the prince would not care if his ashes were scattered today or say a hundred years from now.

The Lionheart had made him an attractive offer after saving his prince and, incidentally, the Lionheart from a stray arrow in battle. 'Yes, Baron Alexander does have a nice ring to it.' It was a shame he couldn't change his last name, because of the family curse, but what could not be changed must be endured. With such thoughts in mind, Alexander Malfoy sought out the Lionheart and accepted the English King's offer, and later settled in England under the rule of King John.

He carefully kept the urn of ashes safe, passing it on to his son with instructions that it had to be returned to Kowpens … eventually. Thus the urn was passed from father to son, and the details of why were lost over time.

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	2. The Magical Kingdom of Kowpens

**DISCLAIMER**: Anything you recognize from reading JK Rowling's wonderful stories is hers (and also property of all the other corporations that own a chunk of the Harry Potter money making machine). I'm just borrowing it to terrorize Draco and Harry, because I really enjoy doing that. I am making no money from this. All other stuff you see that isn't HP cannon is from my own twisted little mind that has been filled with thousands of other HP fan fics that inspired me! Thanks you lot! Also, mucho thank yous to my Beta, Krys!

::sighs:: I seem destined to write shorties. Oh well, I'll try to keep them frequent then.

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Harry groggily awoke and automatically groped for his glasses at his bedside. He immediately regretted the movement as his head pounded and a moan of pain escaped his lips.

"Are you awake?" a soft lyrical voice asked him.

Harry stiffened at the unfamiliar voice and a thought flashed though his mind, 'I don't think we are in Surry anymore, Toto.'

His Aunt Petunia's voice never sounded so sweet. 'Actually,' Harry thought between the painful thudding of his head, 'my Aunt sounds like a strangled cat in heat when she tries to sound sweet. Crap, why can't normal stuff ever happen to me?'

Harry Potter was more than certain that he wasn't with his family because they really did not like him. The Dursleys', whom he spent his summers with, did not like anything (or anyone) they considered not normal, and Harry Potter was as far from normal as most people ever dream of. Harry was a wizard, and not a normal wizard at that. Harry was known throughout the wizarding world as The Boy Who Lived. Indeed, quite a silly name. In fact, if Harry ever found the reporter that dubbed him with the misnomer he planned to hex them so hard their great grandchildren would feel it, but right now, that was neither here nor there. Harry was known by such a silly name because he had done just that, lived when stuck by a killing curse thrown by the day's current Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort. Most found this dark wizard so scary they would not even utter his name, thus he was called He Who Must Not Be Named. Harry, being ever so not normal, had lived though being hit by the evil creature's killing curse, at the age of one, causing it to rebound and destroy the body of He Who Also Has A Silly Name. Needless to say this was most unusual.

The Dursleys', as we have established, did not like him because of his freak… er.. his being unusual. This, of course, lead up the question of, 'Where in the name of Merlin am I?"

Again the lyrical voice spoke, "Oh dear, I think Eric might have been a bit too rough in his effort for speed. Are you awake? Do you need a healer?"

'A healer?' Thought Harry. 'A very un-muggle thing to say, also something I doubt a Death Eater would offer.' Harry mussed about the followers of Voldemort, then he grimaced at the thought of falling into the clutches of a Pomfrey clone, and made the effort to answer. "I'm awake, and no healers please." Harry opened his eyes and slowly sat up on the couch where he was laying. He looked to where the voice had come from. He squinted and tried to focus on the figure that made its way towards him.

"I think you must need these." The voice said and his glasses were carefully placed on his face. He blinked and the image of a pretty young girl about his age came into focus. She looked fragile, as if a puff of wind would blow her away. She was graced with white blond hair that fell in a long plait down her back. Lush black lashes framed her silver gray eyes, and Harry tried to remember where he had seen such eyes before. He dismissed the thought to move on to more important matters.

"Umm… excuse me Miss, but where am I?"

"You are currently at the castle of King James of Kowpens." She promptly answered him and flashed him a charming smile.

'Ok, that certainly was a lot of help.' Harry thought sarcastically, as he tried to remember his geography. Giving up he probed further.

"And just where is Kowpens?" he asked as he rubbed his temples.

The charming smile turned into an impish grin as the girl answered, "Traditionally we answer that question as 'Neither here nor there, but where you look if you should see.' "

His temples started to throb at this answer, and absently he wondered if he could get a headache potion without running the healer gauntlet. Then he said in a pained voice, "Oh well, that just cleared up all my questions."

The girl smirked then elaborated, "Kowpens is one of the few wizarding kingdoms that still exist. Most wizards and witches live in countries that are predominately muggle, and hide among them. Here witches and wizards out number muggles, and the only government is the long established wizarding monarchy."

"That still doesn't explain what you said, or why I am here for that matter," Harry pointed out.

The girl gave him a chastising look for interrupting her, and then continued as if he had not spoken. "Well of course, you realize that being a magic kingdom we long ago sought to hide ourselves from the muggles of the world. Most of the magic kingdoms fell long ago because they were not able to. We, Kowpokes, still exist because my ancestors cleverly invented a spell that hid us very well." she bragged.

"Hid? How?" Harry asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Well, I'm not allowed to tell you the particulars of how the spell works, but the result is that the borders of our country change"

"Change?" he asked, interested in spite of himself, but confused.

"Well, one day you cross the boarder and come out in France, another day you could end up in Russia, still another England, and so on."

Harry blinked in amazement. Even after living in the wizarding world for years, it still astonished him at times how things worked.

"How do you come out where you want to then?" he asked.

She winked at him with a smile, "State secret."

Harry grinned back at her starting to feel at ease; his headache was even easing off. It was obvious to him that while he was kidnapped, and no doubt the Order was having a litter of kittens while looking for him, these people were not with Voldemort and didn't seem to mean him harm, but this really did beg the question of why he was here. With a glint of mischief in his eyes, he decided to get a few answers starting with his hostess's name. He took the girl's hand and kissed the back of it as he copied the words and gestures of an actor he had seen when his Aunt was watching the telly.

"Greetings, fair one. My name is Harry Potter, and what name are you graced with?"

"Oh!" a light blush stained the girl's cheeks, "How utterly silly of me. My name is Clair. Clair Malfoy."

Harry thought, 'Oh I am in so much trouble…'

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	3. Kowpens: A History

**DISCLAIMER**: Anything you recognize from reading JK Rowling's wonderful stories is hers (and also property of all the other corporations that own a chunk of the Harry Potter money making machine). I'm just borrowing it to terrorize Draco and Harry, because I really enjoy doing that. I am making no money from this. All other stuff you see that isn't HP cannon is from my own twisted little mind that has been filled with thousands of other HP fan fics that inspired me! Also, many thanks to my Beta, Krys. Also blessings to my reviewers! I can't tell you how thrilling it is to get reviews.

Liv: No, the plot is mine original (Yes, it spilled out of my own twisted little brain.), NOT an altering of any story that I've read. Actually, I've never read another story that had an all wizard country in it, never mind an extensive Malfoy family, or a servant bound family.

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"Malfoy?" Harry said aghast. He was suddenly very concerned for the safety of his person again. However, before Clair could answer him the door to the room was opened and a man, who resembled Lucius Malfoy so closely that Harry at first thought it _was_ him, entered. Harry quickly revised his conclusion of no harm was meant to him. He immediately racked his brain for a way to remove himself from the situation he was in, but currently was drawing a blank.

"Harry, may I call you Harry? This is my cousin Eric Malfoy." Clair told him

The blond man nodded and wasting no words told him, "Come. You are wanted by the king."

Determining that his options were quite limited and wanting to gather more information about these people and this place, Harry decided on the bold Gryffindor approach. He stood up and as he approached the man, and in his best I'm-a-badass-hero voice said, "After you."

Giving Harry an impassive look the man turned and swiftly walked out, with Harry scrambling after him.

As Harry followed, he studied the new Malfoy in front of him closely. The blonde's movements reminded Harry of a cat. Not a house cat, no nothing so tame, but of the sleek powerful predators he had seen that fateful day at the zoo so many years ago. As his eyes wandered over the man in front of him he speculated on the man's age. He was guessing early to mid twenties. As his eyes scanned over his new enemy he wondered at his initial reaction thinking this was Lucius Malfoy. This man simply was more… he couldn't put his finger on it, but if you compared the two, Lucius Malfoy would come out a flawed copy of Eric Malfoy. Harry idly wondered which Malfoy Draco would take after.

As Harry continued his assessment he noted an unusual marking on the man's upper arm. Peering closer at it, he thought it might be a tattoo of some kind. The design was of thorns encircling the muscle of the Malfoy's arm with a broadsword thrust amongst the brambles, and he thought maybe a rose nestled in the thorns as well.

As Harry glanced away to take in the décor of the halls they traversed, he was surprised to note the theme repeating in various ways throughout the walls, rugs, furniture, and even within a stained glass window that was quite breathtaking.

All too soon they reached what seemed to be their destination, and Harry entered. The room was decorated in gold and maroon, and it seemed to be someone's study, though perhaps overly large, with the usual tables, desk, books, and other ornate bric-a-brac that one would expect to find in a study. Where the walls were not covered with shelves of books however, their was portrait after portrait of what must have been generations of the royal family, and all of them seemed fascinated with him. Harry could hear their murmuring in the background. No doubt discussing himself and why he was brought here.

Behind the desk was an older man with white hair, and while the hair and stature of this man might have reminded him of Dumbledore, the man's dark stern eyes dispelled the notion that the two men were at all alike.

"Your Majesty, I have Harry Potter, as you requested." Eric conveyed in a formal tone.

"Thank you, Eric. Please leave us. I will call you if I need you."

"Majesty, please…" the younger man began, obviously not at all liking the idea of leaving the king, whom this man obviously was, alone with Harry.

The king held up a hand. "I must insist, Eric" 

Eric said not one word more as he made a formal bow to the king before leaving the room in a dramatic sweep of his robes. There was, however, absolutely no doubt in Harry's mind that _his Malfoyness_ was NOT pleased at his being ordered to leave.

"Amazing how they do that isn't it?" 

Harry's attention was jerked back to the remaining man in the room, "Sorry?"

The king waved a hand vaguely at the door where Eric and left, "How they can convey their displeasure, and that you are an idiot for not kowtowing to their will, all without a single gesture being inappropriate for whatever situation they are in. I quite envy them at times for that talent. Then again, you are not used to dealing with Malfoys are you?"

Harry couldn't help but smirk, "Actually I know exactly what you mean, and I've been dealing with three of them since I was eleven. Draco Malfoy is my age, and attends my school, and I've had _dealings_ with his father Lucius and his mother Narcissa."

The king was looking at him with surprise. "Stray Malfoys in England you say? My my, Marcus will not be pleased. I do wonder how they managed it."

"Sir?" Harry wondered what in the world he meant by "stray Malfoys," but as it seemed this king did not know Lucius, he was again thrown into evaluating the situation he had been dragged into.

"Never mind that right now, my boy. We have other important matters to discuss. Tell me Harry, do you know anything about the country of Kowpens?"

Wondering where the king was going with this Harry answered, "Not really sir. I believe the first time I had heard of it was when I woke up a little while ago.

"Hummm… I should start in the beginning then. Come with me." With that, the king walked across the room to a door Harry had not noticed before, and Harry being firmly in the clutches of his curiosity, was quick to follow him.

The new room reminded Harry of the great hall at Hogwarts with its size and vaulted ceilings, but the resemblance ended there. The stone of this room was of a black marble for the floors and walls and the ceiling, he was awed to see, was a portrait. Currently it seemed that bunches of other portraits in the castle were slipping in to watch. The only other thing in the room was what looked like to Harry was a large gazing pool with thorns encircling it.

The king lead Harry to one of the walls of he room, and he saw that there were hundreds of names and lines carved into it and enameled in different colors. The king took out his wand and tapped the wall, and to Harry's surprise the names scrolled rapidly down until the name at the top was in front of them.

"This, Mr. Potter, is the name of the witch that founded our country of Kowpens, Queen Cassandra. Now Queen Cassandra was a wise witch and knew that the first-born was not always the best one to take the throne and do what is best for the people. Now, you go to Hogwarts, yes?"

"Yes." Harry answered wondering where this was going, but fascinated nonetheless.

"Well, your school's Sorting Hat is modeled off our countries First Crown created by Queen Cassandra. The children of the monarch have tried the First Crown for generations, and the crown picked the heir from the applicants.

The king started tracing a line, and Harry realized all the names were a family tree, and the line the king traced was the monarchs of the royal family. As generations descended from Queen Name, the names scrolled up. And the line the king traced showing the crown's movement did not go straight with the crown going from parent to child. No, it jumped sometimes, from cousin to cousin, from uncle to nephew, and once even from nephew to aunt. Soon all of the names were above them save for the last few generations.

"Now this is my name." the king tapped a name and it glowed JAMES FENIMORE GILBERT DUBOIR it said.

"And this is my son," again he tapped a name below his. "And my granddaughter Mara." Once more he tapped a name.

"Now the First Crown had already chosen my son as my heir, but about a year ago my son…" the king stopped speaking for a moment and, taking a shaky breath, finished his sentence. "My son was killed, so I was in need of a new heir for the crown."

Puzzled, Harry asked, "Wouldn't that be your granddaughter?"

"You would think so, but she tried on the crown and it rejected her. I had hoped, but I'm really not surprised. I love her dearly, but she can be self-centered."

"So what are you going to do?" Harry asked.

Instead of answering directly the king pointed his wand back at the names "This one," he tapped the name above his "was my mother." ALASANDRA FRANCIS LEONORA ANNE FITZGERALD it read. Then he moved over to a name by her. "And this was her sister. Mother always told me that she suspected that she would not have gotten the throne if her sister had not stubbornly refused to try the crown. She moved away from Kowpens when she married the man she fell in love with." The name was CASSANDRA ELIZABETH FITZGERALD POTTER, and Harry suddenly had a feeling dread. His eyes followed the line of generations down the wall, WILLIAM JAMES POTTER, then JAMES HENRY POTTER, and then, of course, HARRY JAMES POTTER.

Reeling in shock, he turned and looked at the king, his **GREAT UNCLE**, if the information before him was to be believed. He had family other than his Aunt and Dudley. His dazed mind wondered if his dad had been named for the man before him.

"Mr. Potter, as the next closest of kin after my granddaughter I must insist you try on the First Crown."

And Harry thought, 'And I just thought he wanted to kill me.'

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	4. Fate Loves a Malfoy

A/N: Hi all, yes I know it has been a very very long time. Mea Culpa. I do hope that I will be more diligent in the future. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Phoenix

Disclaimer: I don't own anything HP, JKR does.

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Chapter 3 - Fate Loves a Malfoy

Draco walked down the stairs to breakfast, stopping to scare the life out of a random house elf by smiling at it. He was in a happy mood this morning. Yesterday he and his mother had gone shopping, and FINALLY he had gotten the Firebolt he deserved. Upon arrival at the breakfast room he greeted his mother, the brilliant woman that had saved his inheritance, with a chaste kiss on her cheek. It was shaping up to be a fine day when IT happened.

Before IT came to light, Draco had been remembering and admiring his mother's clever tactics that had saved the family fortune and estate from the greedy hands of Minister Fudge. Fudge, upon being forced to admit that Lucius Malfoy was indeed a Death Eater, had immediately cast about for a way to save face. It was obvious to all, after the shock of seeing Voldemort wore off; Fudge bitterly resented having to admit that Potter and Dumbledore had been right all along. That his trusted advisor, Lucius Malfoy, was a Death Eater, hence making Fudge look even more the fool, was the last straw for the Minister. He immediately launched an attack filing paper work to seize all of Lucius Malfoy's assets. However, Narcissa had been two steps ahead of Fudge and had already invoked a small clause of her marriage contract, which her father had thoughtfully buried in amongst the legalese.

The clause stated that the party of the first part, Lucius, upon bringing disgrace to his name and the name of the party of the second part, Narcissa, activated the clause. Upon bringing shame to the family name the party of the first part, again Lucius, agreed to cede all rights and claims to all titles, monies, and properties to his designated heir. In short, when Lucius was arrested, everything which had not originally been his mother's, reverted to Draco, and being a handsome wealthy young Lord had its perks. Thus Draco's good mood that morning, but then IT happened.

Sprawled across his plate was the Daily Prophet. Normally this wouldn't be classified as an IT, but the paper's headline launched it into an IT rating. Across the top was the headline, The Boy Who Lived to be Prince! in bold dancing letters.

Draco reached forward and snatched the paper up scowling at the dancing headline until it subsided with a whimper under the patented Malfoy death glare.

**_The Boy Who Lived to be Prince!  
By Glenda Gahsup_**

_Yesterday morning, the new heir to the throne of Kowpens was crowned, and it was none other than our own Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter!_

_The people of Kowpens were lined along the streets cheering their new prince as he made his way to Stone of Destiny to officially try on the country's First Crown and be declared the Crown Prince. Flowers were scattered though the streets the unicorns lead the royal carriage. Pixies flitted about as more flowers were tossed before the prince and banners were displayed throughout showing the happiness of the people as they cheered._

_The actual crowning was a solemn stately affair, with Lords and Ladies from throughout the land of Kowpens and other countries that came to pay their respects to the new Crown Prince._

_Accompanied by his retainer, Clair…_

_The paper was crushed as it was clenched in his fingers, and as he read, dishes and glass cracked and shattered around the room causing a most spectacular mess. Draco vaguely heard his mother calling his name, as she demanded he cease this behavior at once, but his attention was fixed up on the story before him. Skipping the details of the hoopla of the coronation, he moved to the commentary._

_GG: So tell us, Mr. Weasley, what are you thoughts on what has happened to your friend?_

_RBW: Happened? Something happened to Harry? Oh no! Did the Death Eaters kidnap him? Does He Who Must not be Named have him?_

_GG: No, Mr. Weasley, have you not heard?_

_RBW: He's hurt, isn't he? Harry is always getting hurt. He has his own bed in the hospital wing at school, you know._

_Comment from Mrs. Weasley, Ron Weasley's mother: Ron, Hedwig is here with a letter from Harry!_

_GG: Mr. Weasley, Harry Potter has been made Crown Prince of the country Kowpens._

_RBW: Harry? Prince? As in castle? Future King? Kowpens? Where is that?_

_GG: Yes, Mr. Weasley, Crown Prince, future ruler of Kowpens._

_RBW: A loud thud is heard._

_GG: Mr. Weasley? Mr. Weasley? Mr. Weasley seems to have left us for the moment. Thank you, Mr. Weasley._

Draco took a moment to smirk and enjoy the public stupidity of the Weasel. His Mother always said to look for the advantages in disaster, and it looked like Weasley wasn't our King after all. Draco was looking forward to giving the Weasel a hard time at school.

_GG: Next we went to speak with Hermione Jane Granger, Prince Harry's good friend and one time rumored love interest. Miss Granger, how do you feel about what has happened to your friend Prince Harry?_

_HJG: I think it is wonderful that Harry has found a blood relative in the magical community._

_GG: Do you think that becoming a prince will change him?_

_HJG: Well, of course, he will change some, however I do not think it will change the core of Harry. He will have new responsibilities, but he will still be the boy that I know. One that doesn't like potions, does very well at DADA, and loves to fly._

_GG: So, Miss Granger, any aspirations to be his princess?_

_HJG: That is a very personal question, Miss Gahsup, but no, I am not Harry's girlfriend._

_GG: Really? Well, thank you, Miss Granger, for you comments._

Draco gave a scowl at the fact that the mudblood had been asked her opinion of what happened while he, a Malfoy, had not been consulted. Never mind the witch-who-was-too-smart-for-her-own-good was one of Potter's Trio. Wasn't he Potter's main school rival? Didn't they care about what he thought of all this? And her, a Princess? He didn't even want to contemplate that. More irritated than before, if that was even possible, the boy continued reading.

_GG: Now, we will go to Prince Harry's school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and speak with his teachers. First we will speak with Prince Harry's head of house. Professor Minerva McGonagall, transfiguration professor and head of Gryffindor. Tell us, Professor; what is your reaction to what has happened to your student?_

_P/MM: Well, it has been quite a shock. We just received his owl only moments ago._

_GG: How do you think Prince Harry will handle the new situation?_

_P/MM: Mr. Potter has always been a leader in both the school and in Gryffindor house. I am sure he will be an exemplary Prince and later King._

_GG: Thank you, Professor McGonagall. Professor Pomona Sprout, Herbology Professor and Head of Hufflepuff house is next._

_GG: Tell me, Professor, what is your reaction to suddenly having a student that is now royalty?_

_P/PS: Oh, well, Harry… He's the Boy Who Lived. I don't think it really is that different. He is a student. I do wish him well. He's such a good boy._

_GG: Umm.. Yes, thank you Professor. Now we go to Professor Rubius Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures Professor, and family friend of the Potters. What is your reaction to this, Professor Hagrid?_

_P/RH: Lil'e 'arry a Prince? Cor, I don't know wha' ter think 'bout that. I will tell ya one thing, I known 'arry since he was a wee mite, and I know 'e'll do 'is parents proud no ma'er what 'e do. They'd be proud of the lad now. 'Arry will be a great man some day, jes' like Dumbledore. You wait and see._

_GG: Thank you, Professor. Professor Filius Flitwick, professor of Charms and Head of Ravenclaw House. Tell me, Professor, what are your impressions of Prince Harry?_

_P/FF: Well, Mr. Potter… I mean Prince Harry has always been a good student at charms and he has been a leader in the…_

'Blah blah blah…' Draco thought as he skipped ahead, 'Yes, Professor, we all know Potter should be up for sainthood.' He skimmed over the many names of other people singing the praises of Harry Potter until he came to his own head of house, whose acid comments managed to bring another smirk to his face.

_GG: Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House, is next. Tell us, professor; what is your take on these happenings?_

_P/SS: I, for one, am appalled at this. Kowpens is one of the oldest remaining wizarding nations, and to think that the crown will be passed to such an impetuous ignorant Gryffindor leaves me ill. The boy is a menace. He has broken more school rules than any other student that comes to mind, and is always getting into trouble._

_GG: Well, boys will be boys, Professor. Do you think becoming a prince will change how he acts?_

_P/SS: Unfortunately, I do. I have no doubt that he will lord the fact over the other students and teachers, becoming even more arrogant and thoughtless than he was before, if that is possible. He was indulged much too much already, in my opinion, just because he is The Brat Who Lived. Personally, I am hoping that he will be transferring to Oxford School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Kowpens so I will no longer be forced to deal with him._

'Oh, that would be lovely, but surely you know that Dumbldork won't let his precious Golden Boy go to another school, Professor?' Draco mused as he continued to read.

_GG: Well… thank you Professor for your... er… comments. Lastly we have Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot , and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Tell us, Headmaster, what do you think of these turn of events?_

_H/APWBD: I believe that Kowpens is fortunate to have our Mr. Potter for their next leader. I am sure that he will do great things for the country._

_GG: But aren't you concerned about You-Know-Who?_

_H/APWBD: I know that the Light shall prevail._

Draco threw the paper away from him, and it exploded into fiery bits everywhere. Fortunately, his mother had stormed from the room some time ago, shouting for the house elves to clean up the mess. Draco sneered, "That barmy old coot. Of course he would say some nonsense like that."

The sneer turned to a smirk as he started to contemplate ways to bait Potter when they went back to school. He had no doubts that the new Prince, the word was spat like a curse in his mind, would be there. Prince! Of all people to receive such a boon that did not deserve it! That knock kneed, sloppy dressed, hair never seen a comb, four eyed, half blooded, mudblood champion, disgrace of a wizard Potter. It was simply untenable.

A bit of the newspaper that he had destroyed in such a spectacular manner slowly drifted down onto the table before him. He glanced down and read the ad that was on the bit of paper before him, and they started laughing almost hysterically at the irony.

_New! Brought to you by the company that made the Firebolt! A new streamlined racing broom! More speed! The fastest racing broom on the market! Greater maneuverability! Faster Acceleration! New advanced breaking and cushioning charms! Also, the first ever safety features for those few times when things go wrong. The new and greatly improved –_

**_Firebolt HP!_**

_Named in honor of the new Crown Prince Harry Potter. On sale tomorrow at your favorite quidditch stores everywhere._


	5. Lessons of Etiquette and Protocol

**DISCLAIMER**: Anything you recognize from reading JK Rowling's wonderful stories is hers (and also property of all the other corporations that own a chunk of the Harry Potter money making machine). I'm just borrowing it to terrorize Draco and Harry, because I really enjoy doing that. I am making no money from this. All other stuff you see that isn't HP cannon is from my own twisted little mind that has been filled with thousands of other HP fan fics that inspired me! Also, many thanks to my Beta, Moggy. Also blessings to my reviewers! I can't tell you how thrilling it is to get reviews.

End of A/N Note

Lessons of Etiquette and Protocol

Harry sat in his new suite of rooms exhausted. He was still reeling in shock from the things that had happened to him in the past few days. He had barely had time enough to stop and write owls to Hermione, Ron, and Professor McGonagal. Harry had not been able to bring himself to write to Professor Dumbledore. He felt bad about the way he had acted in the man's office, but he still resented how he had been manipulated. He knew he needed to get past it, but he wasn't quite ready yet.

Clair Malfoy had been sent by Merlin to save Harry from doom and destruction, as far as Harry was concerned, or at least from great embarrassment on how a Crown Prince should dress. She had gone into overdrive "get-Harry-ready" Mode after she had finished her very un-Malfoy fan girl squee, said squee happening as soon as his confirmation was announced to the Malfoy family. At times she had reminded him of Hermione with her organization and take charge of the details abilities. In less than 12 hours, she had Harry newly shod, quaffed, and dressed. He now was the proud owner of 4 new sets of robes, 4 pairs of shoes, and more hair care products than he cared to think about, with many more outfits on the way. This she had accomplished in just a few days. He had no idea what he was going to do with all these new cloths, but he was sure that Clair would inform him.

Harry had actually had a tug of war with her over his glasses. She was determined to do away with them totally, and have his eyes fixed. Harry however felt sentimental about them and thus the tug of war ensued.

"Harry, you cannot mean to keep those glasses. You have such gorgeous eyes it would be a crime to keep them covered up." Harry's new self-appointed personal shopper, Clair, stated emphatically.

"But Clair, I like them. They are the same kind my dad had." Harry rejoined blocking an _accio glasses_ from Clair with a swipe from his wand.

"That is exactly my point. They are a generation out of fashion!"

"No." Harry stated firmly, regally if you will.

"Oh…" a crumpled look came over her face. "If you really don't want to, but you don't have to be so mean about it." This outrageous statement was followed by a small sniffle.

"Mean! How was I being mean?" Harry near shouted in exasperation as Clair broke into elegant tears and loud sobs in the middle of the shop. Harry, being a typical male in this situation, looked on with an expression crossed between terrified and dumbfounded. Give him a confrontation with Voldemort any day over dealing with a crying female. At least he knew what to DO when confronted by Voldemort.

Clair had come out on top of their battle of wills, not playing fair, by crying. Harry, having no idea what to do with a crying female, had caved. He would have done just about anything to get Clair to stop crying and end the evil glairs shot his way for making the pretty petite blond for crying, but surprisingly he had shown more spunk than most men. He wound up getting his eyes fixed like she wanted, but they compromised by him getting some stylish new frames that resembled his previous frames with glass in them enchanted to show spelled items and the type of spell they were under. Both in the end felt they got the better side of the deal, and Harry spent part of that afternoon learning to use his new glasses.

But with the rest of his wardrobe he surrendered to her will, with a touch of ill grace, realizing that with a crown he'd need new cloths. When Harry had protested at the sheer amount of clothing, shoes, hair care products, and "accessories" she just gave him the Malfoy look that clearly said, "You must be joking, and you are not funny." Then she ignored him and preceded at full pace, a literal whirling dervish of shopping, while Damien Malfoy, Harry's new bodyguard, snickered.

That he had a bodyguard to snicker at him was another shock to Harry's system. Never mind that it was a boy only a few years older than him. This was another thing that he had protested, but with this he was much more vocal. Harry did not like the idea that someone would stand in the way of him and any dark spell that came his way. He felt, with some justification that he could take care of himself. He lost this battle too. This time all it took was his uncle saying, "Please, we cannot afford to lose you." Thus he wound up with a Malfoy watching his back. Talk about something to make him jumpy!

And that was another thing! Malfoys to the left of him, Malfoys to the right of him, Malfoys in front of him and behind him, there seemed to be an over abundance of them. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that white blond hair came from rabbit stock. Right off, he wanted to know what was with all the Malfoys, and boy had THAT come as a shock, as Harry's thoughts went back to the crown room with the King where he got an explanation of all the blonds running about in service with the king.

It turns out that large round thing in the room, that Harry had thought was a decorative fountain was actually a pensive with significant memories from all the rulers of the kingdom all the was back to Queen Cassandra. The king had pulled the memory that showed the first Malfoy came into being and shared it with Harry. Needless to say, Harry was quite shocked. He spent about an hour speaking with the patriarch and matriarch of the Malfoy family in Kowpens about the Malfoys in England, and Harry was left with no doubt in his mind that the senior Malfoy was not pleased about anything to do with the situation, from the family being there to the behavior of Lucius or Draco. In all fairness, Harry felt obliged to point out that he only saw Draco from the point of view of a rival, and that maybe he acted differently with his peers and friends. He, however, didn't have anything good he could say about Lucius. He thought he did see a gleam of approval for himself when he told about freeing Dobby and Lucius being knocked down the hallway via a blast of Dobby's magic on Harry's behalf.

But the thing that really was worrying Harry the most as he contemplated things in his new suite of rooms, which was something else to adjust to, was how Ron, Hermione, the rest of the Weasleys, and his friends had reacted to his news. On the other hand, he was allowed to use his wand and magic when he wanted to. Of course, he had the added joy of more lessons, most of them etiquette and protocol but some of them advanced DADA with Eric Malfoy.

Ah now there was another quandary for Harry to ponder. Eric Malfoy, the king's own bodyguard, master of both offensive and defensive security magic as well as several forms of physical fighting. Eric Malfoy a wizard that was highly powerful, highly beautiful, highly dangerous, and highly messing with Harry's libido, and this was Harry's quandary. Harry had no idea that it was even a possibility that he might be interested in a guy "that way." Now most people would still be at a stage of shock and denial, but Harry had given up living in Egypt a long time ago. He found that being frank with himself, even if no one else would be, helped his survival expectations, and our dear Harry was Slytherin enough to value that aspect of himself. Thus he had gone from the "oh my God he's HOT!" stage, lightly hit on the "No I can't be attracted to a guy because I'm a guy." Stage and was now in the "Ok, I'm attracted to a guy, what in the name of Merlin's toe nails am I going to do about it?" stage.

This dilemma had been plaguing poor Harry for days to point of his messing up at this favorite subject due to being distracted by his teacher. Harry could hardly pay attention to his lessons for watching his teacher. This caused Harry to miss or trip over his own two feet or some other such disaster more often than not, to the point where his teacher was exasperated with him and had dressed Harry down for his poor performance with a tongue as sharp as the sword he currently wielded. Harry, for his part, was just grateful that Eric had not seemed to pinpoint the cause of Harry's ineptitude, however Clair had and of late had teased Harry about it to the point where he wondered if his face was going to permanently a shade of red. Still, while Clair could tease him about it, she had done him the favor of a misdirection when Eric seemed to be inching his way towards Harry's secret. In face, she had done it so much that Eric was now convinced Harry had a crush on Clair, and had banned her from the practice room to keep her from distracting Harry. Would that his life was so simple. Then again, The Fates seemed to adore weaving the thread of his life, and master weavers that they were they would never let his thread take on such a simple pattern. It crossed his mind that perhaps he should look into doing something to placate them since they refused to ignore him, no matter how much he tried to ignore them.

"Prince Harry, I am attempting to follow the orders of my most gracious King by pounding as much defense and fighting techniques into your dullard brain as possible. Do pay attention, it will vastly help your ability to absorb the information." Eric drawled in an oh so weary I-must-do-this-but-I-am-not-enjoying-it voice. His wand landing with a with a startling CRACK as Eric smacked the wooden desk right in front of Harry's nose bringing him out of the lovely daydream Harry was having about doing oh so many unmentionable things with his teacher.

Harry sat back up with a snap and replied, "Yes, sir." Doing his best to make sense of his notes before him as Eric was no doubt about to quiz him over the material he had missed because his newly over active libido. It just was not fair! Why did all of the Malfoys have to be so… well sexy! He had never noticed Draco being sexy when they were in school, Harry mused a bit grumpy, his eyes moving to admire the lovely tight derrière Eric presented as he started to lecture again and while writing on the board points about warding spells Harry absently jotted down.

"… and you must ground the ward spell into a physical object. It is best if this object is well protected itself by other means than the ward it will anchor." Eric lectured.

Harry suppressed a moan, as he vainly shifted in his seat to get more comfortable from the tightness of his pants. He idly wondered if his Uncle knew of a spell to make the Malfoys not quite so yummy, or if it was just something he would have to deal with. Perhaps, after a while, you just got so used to them you built up an immunity. Rather like eating too many ice mice and then latter getting sick at the thought of eating them. Something Dean had once done. Now Dean would go a bit green at the mere mention of the candies.

"PRINCE HARRY!" and crack went the wand against the desk.

Damn it! Not again. It just wasn't fair.

Damian found the situation that Harry was in all too funny as well, but knowing which side his bread was buttered on, didn't twit Harry too much about the situation.

"Prince Harry!" a voice called out and Harry groaned as he hid under his head under one of sofa pillows where he had been reading up on wards in his sitting room. He knew that voice very well by now. It was his savior. It was his tormentor, who had managed in the past few days to bump Draco from the position of number one "Enemy not out to kill me." Though Draco might have debated that point.

"PRINCE HARRY POTTER!"

It was Clair. Harry pondered making a run for it, but not only did she have the advantage of this being her home turf, Clair excelled as a tracker. With a martyred sigh he answered her, "I'm here, Clair."

"Why are you here? You are supposed to be there!" she raged at him as she stomped into his sitting room. Harry quickly found out that the title of "prince" to the Malfoys translated to "someone to ride heard on to keep out of trouble." Well, unless it was trouble planned with one of about said Malfoys. It seemed that Clair had not only his fashion consultant, but as his secretary/make-sure-he-gets-there-on-time-babysitter. Harry so hoped that his Uncle gave into his request to only take Damian to Hogwarts for the school year. He was already having nightmares of Clair and Hermione becoming the best of friends and tag teaming him.

"There? There where? What are you talking about, Clair?" he answered her in an exasperated tone.

"Your fitting for your school robes. You know very well that you have outgrown your old ones." She said with an arrogant sniff. "As if I would let you go back to Hogwarts in those sub-par garments. I don't know why you want to go back to that place when you could transfer to Oxford here." She complained.

"I've told you before. I want to go back there because that is where my friend are." At this she gave him tearing eyes and her lip started to tremble, and Harry hastily added, having gotten a few pointers on how to handle teary-eyed women from Eric, "I mean my old friends. I have lots of new friends here, but I miss my old friends." He heaved an inner sigh when the doe eyes and trembling lip retreated.

"Well, if you are determined to go back, you need to be fitted for your robes. You've only a couple of days before you leave."

"Coming. I'm coming." And he rolled off the couch he had been laying on and followed her out for his fitting. "Doomed… I may as well admit it. I'm doomed."

"What was that?" Clair asked, her ears quite sharp when she wanted them to be.

"Nothing, dear." He replied and thought doomed doomed doomed…


End file.
